


twitch

by anathebookworm



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst (very little), Caulscott - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Mental Health Issues, Nathan Prescott friendly, nothing too serious though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anathebookworm/pseuds/anathebookworm
Summary: Max Caulfield doesn't go to Seattle with her parents. Instead, she stays behind to go to Blackwell and just stay around Chloe.But still, Max and Chloe drift apart. Chloe and Rachel grow closer.Max feels alone all the time. All the time. Until she starts a strange friendship with Nathan Prescott.Aka the one where Tobanga accidentally becomes a matchmaker.(Set during Before the Storm.)





	twitch

**Author's Note:**

> This is my way to let go of stress. Writing original fiction and waiting for literary agents is taking a toll on me, so fanfiction is a good way to relax. Also, I can be convinced to write more for this pairing with enough comments/kudos. ;) With that said, I hope you enjoy this piece!
> 
> Alrighty, so let’s get a few things out of the way.
> 
> No Jeffershit.
> 
> Also, since this is from Before the Storm, Rachel and Chloe are doing exactly what they did during the game. This is like...a side story. (For the record, I’m an Amberprice shipper and they deserve happiness and to be protected at all costs.)
> 
> I know this may seem a little OOC for Nathan sometimes. But if you think about it, during Before the Storm he’s very different from what we see in LiS. I blame Jeffershit. (Shoo, Jefferson, shoo!) Anyway, I also think that he’d be willing to open up to someone at that point. It’s so early, most of his issues still aren’t so severe. And he does open up to Samantha during the game, right? Anyway. He might be OOC, so if that annoys you, best to thread carefully.
> 
> Max may also seem a little OOC. But I also believe that we don’t get to know her exactly, not before she got her powers. And she stayed in Arcadia Bay completely alone, that’s bound to make her bitter.
> 
> Oh, also, keep in mind that some students in Blackwell Academy can be a little psychotic sometimes. Like Elliot—he scared me. And even Nathan, though this isn’t the case. Just. Keep that in mind. People might seem nice, but they can do scary things if pushed too much.
> 
> Finally: SERA DESERVED BETTER, RACHEL DESERVED BETTER, EVERYONE DESERVED BETTER
> 
> (Also for the record, I really liked Steph, Mikey and Drew. Especially when they are together.)
> 
> Oh, and if you enjoy my work, you can always say hello on Twitter! I’m @anathebookworm and I’d love to chat!

_The Tempest_ was beautiful. Honestly, it was. Minor problems aside—like Chloe forgetting most of the script and Nathan bolting from the stage—it was nice.

But it once again made her question if she made the right call in staying in Arcadia Bay. She could’ve gone to Seattle with her parents, live some sort of big-city-fairytale. She _should’ve_ done that. Here, Max just felt...alone. She was okay with being a little bit of a freak, a little different from everyone else. But she never thought it would feel as suffocating as this.

She stayed in Arcadia Bay, but that didn’t seem to affect anyone. No one seemed to care.

She did this for Chloe, because after Chloe’s dad...she couldn’t leave. And yet, Chloe barely spoke to her. They nodded to each other now and then, but that was it. Chloe was much more interested in following Rachel Amber around than anything else.

Like, she actually got _expelled_ to protect Rachel! To make sure Rachel would participate in this stupid school play! (At least, that’s what the rumor mill was saying.)

She should have gone to Seattle with her parents. That was always the plan. Why didn’t she go with them? Why? At least there she wouldn’t be so alone, so...friendless.

Now, though, she couldn’t call her parents and beg them to let her move. Blackwell was too expensive. They thought she was happy here. They were happy thinking she was happy. Max could never burst their bubble like that—it wouldn’t be fair.

With a smile plastered on her face—that’s what people always want, a freaking smile—she excuses herself from the sea of students to go somewhere quiet. Now that the play is over, she needs to take a breath. She needs this.

That’s one nice thing about Blackwell: things are always quiet. Sure, sometimes students got into fights with each other or with teachers, but that’s pretty much it. Oh, Victoria Chase could also be obnoxiously loud sometimes. She freaked out badly during Chemistry because of Chloe.

But there was no Victoria, or Chloe or fights around right now. Not by Tobanga’s side, at least. Max hopes Samuel wouldn’t mind her leaning against the totem for a few hours.

It’s so dark on the campus that she barely pays attention to anything while making her way to the huge totem. She should’ve paid more attention, though, because Max only notices someone had the same idea that she did when she already sat down.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Nathan Prescott exclaims, turning wildly around to point an accusing finger on her nose. He quickly wipes his face, and honestly that just makes him look creepy to Max. He still has his Caliban makeup on, but it’s smudged and weird now.

“Obviously the same thing you’re doing,” she answers with a sigh, not exactly in the mood to play nice. She knows Nathan has some issues going on—it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t know that, especially after the little show him and Drew North performed the other day—but Max doesn’t really care right now. Later, she might. Now? Nope.

(Looking a little more closely to his face, she can actually see the bruise from Drew’s fist under his eye, even with all the makeup.)

“Find somewhere else,” he insists, hissing like that’s supposed to scare her. “I want to be alone.”

“And I want silence!” She says. “I bet silence would do you well, so how about that—we both keep quiet.”

It’s not a question—and it doesn’t sound like one.

For a second, Max actually thinks he’ll either protest or get up and leave. Surprisingly, he does neither. He does however keep running his hands over his face—she doesn’t see the point, not really. She knows he was crying. She was very close to starting to cry, too. What’s the point in hiding this?

With another sigh escaping her, Max hugs her knees to her chest and rocks herself lightly. It’s calming. And calming stuff makes her feel less alone, less panicked.

For some weird reason, Nathan suddenly blurts, “I don’t know your name.”

“Well, I know yours.”

She’s not usually sarcastic. She isn’t sure why she’s being sarcastic now—it could be a coping mechanism. Either way, she doesn’t care. It’s not like she’ll ever sit down and have more chats with Nathan.

Nathan keeps quiet after this, and when she looks up she sees he’s actually frowning.

“Which one of them you know?” He asks, and this time she’s the one who needs to frown. “Because Drew North alone has a huge collection of names he calls me.”

Oh, right.

She wasn’t referring to that, though. Max isn’t one to keep up with mean nicknames people get—she herself could have a lot of them and not know. She never registers this sort of stuff, because, again, there’s no point.

But still, she isn’t sure how to voice that to Nathan. So she just shrugs—the universal language of shrugging can convey all sorts of feelings and speeches and everything in between.

In an afterthought, Max says, “My name is Max, though I’m not sure what people call me behind my back.”

Nathan nods. “You can’t tell anyone you found me here—”

“Do I look like the sort of person who has a lot of people to tell gossip?” She interrupts him, something heavy sitting at the back of her throat. “No, I don’t. So you don’t have to worry about this.”

“Um, okay,” he says, not sounding exactly sure of what he’s saying. “I. Um. I bet you know why I’m hiding here, but what are _you_ doing here?”

“I really don’t know why you’re here—and I don’t care, so no need to threaten me.”

If she was feeling better about herself, she’d have laughed—or at least enjoyed—how her answers are throwing him off. Now, though, she’s too gloom to care.

“You’re weird,” he says, as if she doesn’t know that already. “You never answer the things I ask.”

“I’m just hiding here too, okay?” She sighs for the third time. “I don’t want to be partying with the others because of the success of the stupid play.”

“Yeah. Stupid play. I shouldn’t have tried to participate.”

She doesn’t know why she does this, but Max smiles and says, “Steph was around telling everyone how nice it was to see the boys during the rehearsals. She said, and I quote, that you showed sensibility.”

He groans. “Exactly what I needed. As if my...my, uh, hands and my photography weren’t enough for people to keep bothering me.”

“I don’t think—”

“I don’t want you to lie! I know what you’re going to say, and it’s a lie!” He interrupts her, yelling. He looks around maniacally, as if afraid people are going to jump on him for whatever reason.

“Alright.” She raises her hands in surrender. “Do you like photography?”

“Duh.”

“I like it,” Max says, proud of herself. She quite likes the photos she can take—and she honestly hopes that one day in the future she can be recognized for her work. “I like taking different selfies, exploring different scenarios and emotions. Selfies can convey much more emotion than people realize.”

“Max Selfie it is, then,” he says with a smile. Talk about mood swings, huh. “I didn’t know...I mean, people around here aren’t that interested in photography. You know?”

“Victoria Chase is interested in it—she got an award or something she keeps talking about.”

“Uh. Right. I forgot about that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “But aside from her, you’re the first person here who wants to talk about photography. I could show you some of my collection, but...”

“But?”

“It’s gone now. Drew threw it on the fountain. Months of work...gone.”

“That’s a dick move!” She exclaims, crossing her arms over her chest. She couldn’t imagine what she’d feel if someone just ruined her photos. “I’m sorry.”

“Ha, I don’t need anyone to be sorry! I’ll make him pay, you’ll see! He thinks he can boss me around, but he can’t. I’ll make him pay!”

“Hey, maybe you can start a new photo book. It’s—”

“It’s not just the book. Drew doesn’t want me on the team. On the Vortex Club. He doesn’t want me anywhere. I’m fucking tired of people treating me this way!”

She’s sick of a lot of stuff, too.

“Well, are you sure you need all of this? The Vortex Club, the team—”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what people want me to do,” he says, looking away again. This time he does get up and scowls. “What the fuck am I even doing here, telling you all this stuff. You know what, just mind your own business. I don’t need help. I don’t you analyzing me—I can pay someone to do that.”

“Gee, okay,” Max says, rolling her eyes. “Do whatever you want. But, for the record, I’ll be here tomorrow. If you feel like talking again.”

“I won’t.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself, really.”

Either way, she _is_ going to be here tomorrow. She doesn’t know why—she doesn’t know a lot of things, apparently—but she wants to talk to this troubled boy again. He seems like he needs it.

And she needs it, too. Misfits usually can understand each other. Right?

* * *

 

When Max goes back to her room in the dormitory, she buries herself in her covers and sleeps. She doesn’t dream with Chloe and Rachel leaving her behind, alone.

She doesn’t dream with anything.

And it’s great.

* * *

The first thing Max notices in the morning when she’s making her way to Tobanga is how Samantha Myers keeps glaring at her. And she doesn’t know why. Like, she never ever spoke to that girl. She couldn’t possibly have done something to hurt or annoy her.

Unless being a weirdo could now offend people.

The second thing she notices is how Nathan Prescott is already sitting by Tobanga’s side, a sort-of-smile (or grimace) on his face. He raises his hand as if to wave, but must’ve thought better of it because in the end he does nothing.

Max bites her lower lip—was she really expecting him to show up? Was she really expecting herself to show up?

“Hi,” Nathan greets. Mood swings indeed. That is...scary, to say the least. “I wasn’t sure you’d come here.”

“Me neither,” she admits, dumping her backpack down and sitting next to Nathan. “But I’m not one to leave people hanging—and I did promise I’d come, right?”

“I wouldn’t call that a promise.”

“So, uh, why did you come here again? I don’t think being seen with a weirdo is going to help you with your...bullying stuff.”

“Don’t call it that! I can take care of myself, and I can show them I’m better than all of them!” He snaps. Then his face falls and he covers it with his hand. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I brought something to show you.”

He doesn’t exactly look at her when saying that, but he thrusts a book in her hands. _The Art of Photography: An Approach to Personal Expression._

“It’s new,” he says, still not looking at her. “Ish. I liked it, and if you’re into photography...I guess I thought...I don’t know what I thought.”

He reaches out as if to take the book from her, but Max holds it against her chest with both hands. “Can I borrow this? I don’t think I read nearly enough stuff about photography. Please?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waves her off, but a quick look at his face tells her he’s blushing. “Wait, don’t open it y—”

Too late.

She opens the book, and some photos spill out of it. Graveyards, mostly. There’s even a beautiful one of a man cleaning a gravestone.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” He exclaims, successfully managing to tear the photos from her hands and hide them in his jacket.

“I liked them,” she says, frowning. Still clutching the book, though.

“And you’re a lousy liar.”

“You’re right, I am. And that’s why you should know that I’m not lying now.”

“Whatever.”

Max straightens herself up and picks her bag again. “Thanks for letting me borrow the book, Nathan. I’ll give it back...in a week or so? If that’s okay?”

“Whathefuckever,” he says instead of repeating himself. It’d have made her snort if it weren’t so maddening.

She doesn’t bother saying goodbye then, just starts walking away. Whathefuckever indeed.

Max half expects Nathan to call after her, ask her to wait and then apologize. But he doesn’t. And it doesn’t matter to her—they aren’t friends. Even if they were, it wouldn’t matter. She was already abandoned by one friend, why would it be any different now?

 _But Chloe didn’t exactly abandon you. You just kept pushing her away, ignoring her texts_ , a voice says on the back of her head. _She just got tired of being headbutted. Anyone would get tired of your attitude._

 _I had my reasons!_ She tells herself. _I miss my family. I wanted to be alone! I wanted to go to Seattle._

But she knows none of this is Chloe’s fault. She knows. Chloe tried. Chloe tries all the time—she even tried to defend Nathan with the Drew thing.

Max pushed Chloe away.

And now she’s facing the consequences—which involve feeling more alone than ever and wanting to bury herself under a rock.

As she’s making her way to Ms. Grant’s class—it _is_ time for Ms. Grant’s class, right?—her day becomes much worse.

She bumps right into Rachel Amber of all the people.

And Rachel smiles and bends down to pick up Nathan’s book.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Rachel says. Something about her eyes...she looks sad. Or maybe Max is just imagining that Miss Perfect isn’t so perfect. “Here.”

She nods dumbly. “Thanks.”

Just as Rachel is about to move and go do whatever celebrities do, Max asks, “Wait, how’s Chloe doing? I...heard that she was expelled.”

Rachel’s face hardens so quickly she almost looks like a different person. “She could be better. That wasn’t fair. At all.”

“Principal Wells is never fair,” Max mumbles.

“Especially if you have a ‘high risk’ label.”

“That’s a real thing?” Max gaps. “I thought the students were making it up to scare the newbies.”

Rachel nods. “It’s a totally real thing. I have to go now, sorry. I’ll tell Chloe you said hi.”

Rachel disappears after that. Max always had that thought when it comes to Rachel Amber—the girl is like smoke. You can’t touch her, you can barely see her for what she truly is.

Her classes after that are okay. Slow. Tiring. Her mind is always somewhere else. But still—the classes themselves are okay.

Once again, she finds herself buried under her blankets, hiding from the world. Like a coward, someone so, so scared of facing life.

It’s not comfortable like it was last night.

But before Max can consider closing her eyes to will her headache to leave her alone, her phone beeps.

And it keeps beeping.

 

 **Unknown:** _im sorry_

 **Unknown:** _im the biggest idiot_

 **Unknown:** _and_

 **Unknown:** _and i dont know how to deal with people_

**Unknown:** _im also sorry this isnt the first time im telling you im srry_

 

“The hell?” She mutters, reading the messages again. She’s not stupid (despite what people around Blackwell seem to think) she knows who the sender is. But still. What the hell?

 

 **Max C:** _let’s start with how you got my number_

 **Unknown:** _i asked nicely_

 **Max C:** _who?_

 **Unknown:** _steph?_

 

She was going to murder Steph. She gave her number specifically because of that Science project they had, and not so Steph could toss it around to anyone who asked.

 

 **Max C:** _fine_

 **Max C:** _apologies accepted_

 **Unknown:** _:) can i go see u?_

 **Max C:** _not unless you’re planning on breaking into the girls dormitory_

 **Unknown:** _done_

 **Unknown:** _u just have to open the door_

 

As soon as she opens her door and sees his stupid face, Max groans.

“Unbelievable,” she says. She does giggle after a moment, shaking her head. “Just come in! Please tell me Steph didn’t see you here? I’m not looking forward to awkward questions.”

“Um.”

“Oh, no.”

“I can always say I’m sorry again, if that helps,” Nathan says, like he’s actually sorry. He eyes her desk for a minute before resting his weight on it. “I know it’s bad to be seen with me. Prescott name or not, everyone around here hates me.”

He says it with so much conviction, Max almost...feels sorry for him. She’s not sorry that some people might hate him—she’s sorry because he believes everyone does. He believes it.

Something must’ve taken over her body, because next thing she knows, Max is by his side bumping shoulders with him.

“I don’t mind being seen with you,” she says with a smile of sorts. “I’m a weirdo, remember?”

“I guess this makes us two,” he says with a smile of sorts. “Maybe there was one good thing about that stupid play.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m happy we’re...talking. Being...friendly? I’m not sure. But I’m happy.”

She bumps shoulders with him again.

“So, do you to go take some pictures tomorrow? I guess my dad felt kind of bad...because of all that shit...anyway, he got me a new camera. We could try it. If you want to, that is.”

Her smile isn’t a sort of smile now. It’s a big, huge one—because when was the last time someone actually asked to go take pictures with her? That’s one certain way to cheer her up!

“I’ll meet you by Tobanga?” She asks. “After classes.”

“Yup. Sounds good.”

His grin is so huge that it almost takes over his entire face. That’s when Max realizes that she’s never seen Nathan Prescott smiling so much. Her next realization is that he should smile more.

* * *

**Unknown:** _are u coming?_

 **Unknown:** _im already here_

 

She smiles at the texts. Yes, she is coming. She needs to make sure her face is okay. You know, considering all the crying she did because of Chloe and her parents before.

 

 **Max C:** _1 minute and I’ll be there!_

 

In an afterthought, she grabs her own Polaroid—a gift from Chloe—and leaves her room. Once again, Samantha Myers is there, glaring daggers.

Seriously, what did she do to offend this girl?

Max is almost stopping to ask her exactly that when her phone beeps.

 

 **Unknown:** _ur lying to me_

 **Unknown:** _i bet u just woke up_

 

Well, Samantha Myers can wait. This whole confrontation thingy can wait—now she’s got pictures to take.

 

 **Max C:** _no, I’m not. You just need to learn how to wait_

 **Unknown:** _nope_

 **Unknown:** _jst hurry up_

 **Unknown:** _people r looking at me_

 **Unknown:** _or this stupid camera_

 **Unknown:** _I dont want them 2 break it too_

 

This definitely makes her walk faster. He already had most of his pictures destroyed, she doesn’t want for Nathan to also lose his new camera.

She sees Samantha following her for a minute, but ignores it. She could just be paranoid. She probably is.

When Max makes it to Tobanga, Nathan is fidgeting with his fingers and walking in circles. Every once in a while, he glares at anyone who dares to look his way.

But once he sees her, his face shifts. A little, at least. He smiles. A little.

“Hey!” Nathan waves. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she says with a smile. “I brought my Polaroid, too. Is it okay?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, but does smile. “I’ve been thinking...maybe we could go to the beach? The whales sometimes show up, and they could make great pics.”

Max nods and adjusts her bag on her shoulders.

“Hey, about yesterday...” Nathan says after they start walking. “I hope the girls aren’t giving up any trouble.”

“It’s okay.” She nods, mostly to herself. No one said anything about yesterday—though maybe she should mention how weird Samantha has been acting. “I don’t really care about the awkward questions.”

This must be the right answer, because Nathan’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Seriously? You don’t care? About hanging out with me?”

“I’ll care if you murder someone.” She bumps shoulders playfully with him. “Are plotting any murders right now?”

Nathan snorts. “Yeah, just look at me. I have the perfect build to murder someone with my own hands.”

“Can’t blame me for checking.” She laughs again. By now, Max realizes, they’ve reached the parking lot. “For the record, I’m not plotting a murder either.”

“Unless taking me to somewhere people can’t see is your plan to make your first victim.”

“You’re the one who suggested the beach, Prescott!” Max shakes her head, and it feels great. The wind is great, the weather is great and she isn’t feeling sad and gloom for a change.

“Don’t move!” Nathan suddenly exclaims, but she obviously spins around to look at him in confusion. It’s a reflex. What she sees, though, is Nathan with his camera on his hands, grinning like an idiot. “Okay, it could’ve been better if you actually listened to me.”

She blushes.

She likes selfies, likes taking pictures of herself, yeah. But she’s always the one to take these pictures. Or someone from her family.

This feels very different—and her only answer is a blush.

Her silence must’ve hit Nathan like a brick on the face, because he blushes as well. “Oh. Oops. Sorry. I just. The angle looked really good. And your face was good, too! Uh, not that there is anything wrong with your face usually, but—”

He cuts himself off—probably before he starts saying stuff that makes no sense.

But.

It’s sort of cute, Max thinks.

Not that she has any experience with “cute.” But she’s willing to bet this is totally it.

And as another reflex, she aims her Polaroid and takes a picture of Nathan dumbstruck face. He doesn’t realize it until after three seconds of her waving the picture in her hands.

“Max!” He complains, hiding his face from her view as if that will change anything. “No-oh! I don’t like taking pictures of myself!”

“But it’s a nice picture,” she insists. “You took mine, I think this is only fair.”

“Ughhh.”

“Come on! When we reach the beach, we can take new pictures of ourselves. Better pics. Right?”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t be a baby, Prescott.”

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles. When she catches a sign of his face, it’s super red. Like a tomato. Or something redder.

He’s smiling again when their bus reaches the beach and they see a couple of whales in the distance.

“They’re here! Look, Max, they’re here!” Nathan exclaims and waves towards the ocean like an excited kid. He doesn’t even look at her before starting to take pictures of the distant whales.

She lets him, and even takes one picture herself. It obviously doesn’t turn out great, because the whales are too far away. Instead, Max decides to take more pictures of Nathan while he’s having fun and smiling.

That’s how they spend at least half an hour, until she sprawls herself on the sand. Cold sand. Nice, very nice.

The sounds of the waves are nice, too. Calming. Relaxing. Much more than her music. Or anything else.

She pretends not to see it, but before Nathan sits by her side, he takes another picture of her.

“Sorry, is this too boring?” He asks, a hint of concern coloring his voice.

Max takes a deep breath, allowing the scents of the beach to fill her lungs. “No,” she tells Nathan. “I love it here. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Why?”

She opens one eye to see him staring intently at her, completely engrossed in whatever she has to say.

“Just insomnia. I...kind of miss my parents. They’re in Seattle now. Seems so far away, you know?”

“I know,” he answers quickly. “My older sister left me. She went to Brazil to do whatever. I miss her every single day. And she never emails me. Or calls me. Or anything.”

“Sorry,” she says.

“Wasn’t your fault. It was Dad’s.”

She thinks very hard about it before blurting, “Hey, I know it’s not the same thing...it’ll never be the same thing, but...I won’t go anywhere. We’re like, friends now. Right?”

“Max Selfie and Twitch,” he says, though the way he looks at her makes butterflies come alive in Max’s stomach. He looks at her like she’s a precious thing, like she couldn’t possibly say anything more meaningful at all. It almost looks like he could cry at any moment.

But she frowns. “Don’t call yourself that.”

Instead of answering, he lays down next to her on the sand, touches her cheek with a shaky hand. Very shaky. Twitching, really—even if she won’t ever say it out loud. Something in her chest twitches as well, and she grabs his hand between one of hers and squeezes, squeezes, squeezes.

Slowly, Nathan moves their hands to her mouth, then her chin. After a moment that feels like hours, their joined hands are resting on the sand between them.

And he kisses her.

Well, not exactly that. He barely touches her lips. But once she realizes what’s happening, she makes sure to erase the distance between them and kiss him properly.

She has zero idea of what she’s doing.

But she thinks she’s doing okay for a first time, because she can’t stop smiling.

She’s kissing Nathan Prescott.

And smiling.

And giggling.

And he can’t stop smiling as well.

* * *

During the last couple of days, Max Caulfield could only regret staying in Arcadia Bay. Now, she isn’t so sure anymore.

Now, holding Nathan Prescott’s hand while they walk back to Blackwell Academy, she thinks that maybe staying was a good idea.

Just as she’s about to open her mouth and thank him for today, thank him for this beautiful gift that today was, pain engulfs her whole body.

Pain and nothing more.

With all the strength she can manage, she looks around to try and understand what happened. A car. A car just hit her. Her eyes are getting blurry, but she sees the car.

She sees the girl that’s driving the car, the same girl that had been following her earlier. Samantha Myers.

Blurry.

Everything is blurry and funny.

Her brain

can’t think straight.

Before her eyes close properly

she sees Nathan.

He doesn’t look okay.

* * *

It’s funny, but next time she opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is ice cream.

Then Nathan, sitting next to her, hugging his knees to his chest and crying.

“Hey,” she says and immediately starts coughing. Nathan looks up and hurries to put a cup of water next to her mouth. “You got me ice cream. You didn’t have to.”

He doesn’t bother wiping his eyes, but he does scratch his nose. “I was really worried. I-I felt so bad. I should’ve been paying attention, but I wasn’t...”

She feels a little slow and a little weird, like her limbs aren’t exactly right, but Max still reaches out to squeeze his hand between hers. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m okay, right? There’s no need to worry. At least today’s photos were pretty great, uh?.”

“Yeah.” He smiles, running his fingers over her hand. But his face hardens the next second. “My dad’s speaking with Sam’s mom. He’ll cover all of this, o-okay? And y-you don’t have to worry, b-because Sam is never going to Blackwell again. I’ll kill her if she gets close to you again!”

She squeezes his hand more tightly, a bit scared by his outburst. “Please, talk to your dad...tell him not to do anything. I...please, she can keep going to Blackwell. Please.”

Nathan looks away.

“And I don’t want your dad paying my bills,” she adds. “I’ll call my parents, we’ll see what we can do, we—”

“Max?” Someone else invades her room, exclaiming her name as loudly as it could possibly be accepted in a hospital. “Oh my God, Max! What are you doing here? What happened? Are you okay?”

It’s Chloe.

Chloe Price, the friend she had been neglecting.

What is Chloe even doing in a hospital?

“Hi,” Max says weakly, looking away and grabbing Nathan’s hand. She’s so ashamed to see Chloe now, because she has no idea what to say. She has no idea what to do, really. “I’m okay.”

Nathan squeezes her hand back, and she sees how he’s staring at Chloe curiously. Last time they saw each other, for all that Max knows, was back when Drew destroyed Nathan’s photos.

“But what happened? Why are you here?” Chloe insists, dropping down on her bed to grab her free hand. “Start talking, girl!”

“Gee.” Max chuckles. It feels a little awkward. She doesn’t want to tell Chloe what happened, she knows this sort of accident is still something that haunts her friend. It’s still too soon.

“Car accident,” Nathan says instead. Of course, he doesn’t see when Chloe goes completely pale. “Crazy driver hit her while we weren’t looking. Bastard.”

“I’m okay, though,” she says before Chloe can panic. “Right, Nathan? Not even hurt.”

He nods—but he’s too slow, and Max sees the exact moment Chloe’s eyes fill with tears. A second later, her friend grabs her shoulders and hugs her. Bear-hugs her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chloe asks, pretty much sobs against her neck. “Positive? One hundred percent?”

“I’m sure,” Max says, letting go of Nathan’s hand to hug Chloe back. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I scared you. Both of you.”

“Don’t do this sort of shit ever again,” Chloe lectures. “Next time you’re outside, fucking watch the streets!”

“Hey! It wasn’t her fault!” Nathan interrupts, and Chloe glares his way.

“Chloe,” Max interrupts them. “What are you doing here?”

Something clouds Chloe’s eyes. “Just...visiting Drew North. He’s in this same corridor. Steph and Mikey are here, too.”

It’s a lie—she can tell it’s a lie. At least, it’s not the full truth.

But she’s so tired.

She doesn’t want to protest or pry right now.

And Chloe sees that, because she suddenly says, “I’ll come back later, okay? I will. I promise. Just. Be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” Max says with a smile and a nod.

After Chloe leaves, Nathan rests his head on her stomach, his shoulders shaking a little.

“I was so fucking worried,” he mutters. “I’m so sorry...”

She pats his shoulder and his hair. “I’m okay. Not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He raises his head to look at her, and his eyes are so shiny it hurts her heart. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

He cries for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Next Monday, when she’s feeling much better, Max sits by Tobanga again, _The Art of Photography: An Approach to Personal Expression_ resting on her lap.

Nathan arrives a few minutes later, carrying a new photography book in his hands. He smiles and drops an arm around her shoulders.

And she’s happy.


End file.
